I woke to fire.
Not the crackling warmth of the hearth. Not the glow of torchlight on obsidian. But a searing heat low in my belly, a pulse of magic beneath my skin, a whisper in my blood that wasn’t mine.
My eyes snapped open.
The chamber was dark, the enchanted glass of the window filtering the first pale light of dawn into fractured silver. The air was still thick with the scent of stone and old magic, but something else lingered—*him*. Kaelen. His cold fire, his ancient power, his presence like a storm no one could escape. It clung to the sheets, to the pillow, to the space beside me where he hadn’t slept.
And then—
I felt it.
Not the bond. Not the Mark of the Eclipse.
Something new.
Something *awake*.
I sat up fast, heart pounding, and reached for the collar of my blouse—still damp from last night’s sweat, from the blood, from the kiss that had left my lips swollen and my body trembling. I pulled the fabric down, fingers trembling, and—
Gasped.
There, just above my collarbone, where the Mark of the Eclipse pulsed faintly—was another mark.
Dark. Raised. Glowing.
A mating mark.
Not mine.
His.
It burned with indigo light, a sigil I didn’t recognize—serpent and crescent moon intertwined, the same symbol that had formed on the Binding Contract. The same symbol that had flared when our hands touched. The same symbol that now pulsed on my skin like a second heartbeat.
My breath came fast. My pulse roared.
No.
I hadn’t consented. I hadn’t been claimed. I hadn’t—
But the mark didn’t care.
It throbbed, hot and alive, feeding on the bond, on the kiss, on the blood we’d shared. And then—
It pulled.
Not pain. Not magic.
Need.
Low. Deep. Real.
I stumbled out of bed, boots hitting the floor with a sharp crack. I didn’t care about silence. Didn’t care about stealth. I stormed across the chamber, hand on the door—
And froze.
The bond—
It wasn’t pulling toward him.
It was breaking.
Not the tether. Not the magic.
Him.
I could feel it—his presence, flickering. Fading. Like a candle in the wind. His breath, shallow. His pulse, weak. His magic—dimmed, frayed, dying.
“Kaelen,” I whispered.
And then—
I ran.
The main chamber was empty, the fire in the hearth burned low, casting long shadows across the obsidian floor. The silver case sat untouched, the journal still tucked inside my jacket. But no Kaelen. No Silas. No guards.
Just silence.
And the bond—
Still pulling. Still breaking.
I followed it—down the corridor, past the double doors of his private wing, to the chamber at the end. His bedroom. The one I’d only seen once, when he’d carried me after the blood-sharing. The door was ajar, just a crack, the torchlight flickering within.
I pushed it open.
And stopped.
He was on the bed—fully clothed, lying stiffly on top of the black silk and fur, one arm flung across his eyes. His skin was paler than usual, almost translucent, his lips tinged with gray. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. One hand clutched his stomach, fingers curled like claws.
“Kaelen,” I said, stepping inside.
No answer.
I moved faster, boots silent on the stone, heart pounding. I reached the bed, knelt beside it, pressed two fingers to his throat.
His pulse was weak. Thready. Wrong.
“Kaelen,” I said again, voice sharper. “Wake up.”
He didn’t move.
And then—
I saw it.
On the nightstand. A silver goblet. Empty. But the scent—
My stomach dropped.
Blood. Wine. And beneath it—*poison*. Not mortal. Not common. But something older. Darker. Vampire venom, laced with fae glamour. The kind that didn’t kill. That crippled. That made you feel every second of your death, even as you lived.
“You idiot,” I whispered, hand tightening on his wrist. “Who did this?”
He stirred—just once. A flicker of pain across his face. His lips parted, voice a rasp. “Cassian… knew… about the bond…”
My breath caught.
Of course. The emergency Council session. The Trial of Blood. The time-stopping. Cassian had seen it all. And he’d known—known the bond was real, known I was Eclipse, known that Kaelen would do anything to protect me.
And he’d used it.
“He laced the wine,” Kaelen murmured, eyes still closed. “Thought… I wouldn’t taste it. But I did. Too late.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I snapped, already scanning the room for remedies. No antidote vials. No healing crystals. Just weapons. Maps. Secrets.
“Didn’t want… you to worry,” he said, voice fading. “Didn’t want… you to see me… like this.”
“Like what?” I hissed. “Weak? Human? Vulnerable?” I grabbed his jaw, forced his head up. “You’re not invincible, Kaelen. And I’m not some fragile little witch who needs protecting. I’m your equal.”
His eyes opened—just a slit. Gold, molten, hers. “You are,” he whispered. “But I… I couldn’t lose you.”
My chest tightened.
And then—
The bond pulled again.
Not toward him.
Through him.
I gasped, staggering back. The mating mark on my neck flared—bright, hot, alive—and then—
Images.
Not memory. Not magic.
Truth.
I saw her—my mother—kneeling at the Eclipse altar, the Black Sigil glowing at her throat. Cassian stepping from the shadows, his hands bound by illusion, his voice distorted. The blade—black, serrated, humming with dark magic—driving into her back. And then—
Kaelen.
Not standing by. Not watching.
Fighting.
Bound by magic, yes. Held back, yes. But struggling. Screaming. Reaching for her. And when she fell—
He screamed.
A sound of pure, unrelenting grief. A roar that shook the stones. And then—
Darkness.
The vision snapped back.
I was on my knees, hand pressed to my chest, breath ragged. The mating mark still pulsed, but the pain—the wrongness—was gone. Replaced by something else.
Clarity.
He hadn’t just tried to save her.
He’d loved her.
Not as a lover. Not as a mate.
But as a sister-in-arms. As a friend. As family.
And when she died—
He’d broken.
And he’d stayed broken. For two centuries.
Until me.
“You saw it,” he said, voice weak.
I looked at him—really looked. At the shadows under his eyes. At the scar on his forearm. At the way his breath caught when I touched his hand.
And I knew—
This wasn’t just about vengeance.
Or politics.
Or the bond.
This was about us.
And for the first time—
I didn’t want to destroy him.
I wanted to save him.
So I did the only thing I could.
I crawled onto the bed.
Straddled him.
And pressed my palm to his stomach, right over the source of the poison.
“What are you doing?” he rasped.
“Saving your life,” I said, voice steady. “Now shut up and let me work.”
I closed my eyes.
Reached deep—into the well of my magic, into the blood of my mother, into the bond that tied me to him. I felt it—Eclipse power. Not just witch. Not just vampire. Both. A fusion. A fire. A storm.
And then—
I pulled.
Not with force.
Not with rage.
But with need.
For him.
For us.
For the future we hadn’t claimed yet.
My palm burned. My skin flushed. The Mark of the Eclipse flared—bright, hot, alive—and then—
Black threads.
Like smoke. Like venom. Like death.
They seeped from his skin, curling up my arm, into my body. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just let it in, let it burn, let it hurt. Because if I didn’t take it, he would die.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
Not now.
Not ever.
His breath hitched. His hands fisted in the sheets. “Indigo—”
“Quiet,” I said, voice tight. “I’m not done.”
I pressed harder. Focused deeper. The poison fought—writhing, twisting, alive—but I was stronger. I was Eclipse. I was his.
And then—
It snapped.
Like a thread. Like a curse. Like a lie.
The last of the venom surged into me, a wave of cold fire that made me gasp, my back arching, my head thrown back. My vision blurred. My pulse roared.
And then—
Stillness.
I opened my eyes.
Kaelen was staring at me—those golden eyes wide, unblinking, awake. His skin was no longer gray. His breath—steady. His pulse—strong.
“You did it,” he whispered.
“Of course I did,” I said, voice hoarse. “Did you really think I’d let you die?”
He didn’t answer. Just reached up, brushed his thumb over the mating mark on my neck. “You’re marked,” he said, voice rough. “And I didn’t even bite you.”
“It happened last night,” I said. “After the kiss. I woke up with it.”
“Then it’s real,” he murmured. “Not forced. Not faked. Chosen.”
“I didn’t choose it,” I said, but there was no heat in my voice.
“Your body did,” he said. “And your magic. And your heart.” He sat up slowly, wincing, but his strength was returning. “You saved me.”
“You saved me first,” I said, thinking of the blood-sharing, of the way he’d carried me, of the way he’d kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. “Over and over.”
He cupped my face, his touch cold, gentle. “Then we’re even.”
“We’re not,” I said. “Because I still haven’t forgiven you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me hate you,” I said. “For not telling me the truth. For making me believe you were the monster when you were just… grieving.”
He stilled.
Then—
He pulled me down, until I was lying beside him, my head on his chest, his arms around me. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice raw. “For every second you spent hating me. For every tear you cried. For every time you looked at me like I was the enemy.”
My breath caught.
“And I’m sorry,” I whispered, “for not seeing you sooner. For not trusting you. For not—”
“Shh,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
The bond hummed between us—soft, warm, alive. The mating mark still glowed, but the heat was different now. Not possession. Not claim.
Promise.
And then—
A knock.
Sharp. Insistent.
The door.
We broke apart, but he didn’t let go. Just held me closer, his hand warm on my back.
“Kaelen,” came Silas’s voice, muffled. “It’s urgent.”
He exhaled, long and slow, then pressed his forehead to mine. “Later,” he murmured. “This isn’t over.”
“It never is,” I said, smiling.
He stood, helped me up, then opened the door just enough to speak. I couldn’t hear the exchange—just low murmurs, Silas’s neutral tone, Kaelen’s clipped responses. Then the door closed.
He turned back to me.
“Cassian’s calling another emergency session,” he said, voice tight. “He knows you saved me. He knows the bond is stronger than ever. And he’s going to try to break it.”
My stomach dropped.
“How?”
“By exposing us,” he said. “By revealing the mating mark. By declaring you an imposter, a half-blood abomination who seduced the High Sovereign to steal his power.”
I stared at him. “And if he does?”
“Then we fight,” he said, stepping closer. “Together. As equals. As bondmates. As—” He hesitated. “As lovers.”
My breath caught.
“And if I’m not ready for that?”
“Then I’ll wait,” he said, voice rough. “Until you are. Until you trust me. Until you love me.”
The word—love—hit me like a blade.
Not just a possibility.
A promise.
And I—
I wasn’t ready.
But I was close.
So close.
So I did the only thing I could.
I reached for his hand.
And laced my fingers with his.
The bond didn’t flare.
It sang.
And for the first time—
I didn’t want to destroy him.
I wanted to keep him.
And I would.
No matter the cost.